A Frightening Argument
by Angel From Above Is Here
Summary: Minerva and Sirius have been together for a little while, and find themselves arguing. Well, neither one is actually sure whether arguing is the right word for it, but they don't know what else to call it. Sirius and Minerva need to deel with it all and decide whether their relationship can continue. This is the second story in my Sirius and Minerva universe.


**A/N: And here's another story for my Sirius/Minerva universe. I hope you'll like reading this as much as I liked writing it! And if there's anything else you'd like to read about Minerva, Sirius and Harry, please let me know. Or if you have another favourite pairing with Minerva in it, I'd be very willing to try my hand at it! Please leave me a review to let me know whether you loved or hated the story and why. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!**

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns it all. Which means I don't own a thing.**

**A Frightening Argument**

The hallway is deserted when Minerva steps into it. That's unusual, as Sirius has taken to await her arrival there since they started their relationship three months ago. However, the change is not entirely unwelcome. She knows she looks like hell, she is tired and irritable and has no desire to let Sirius see her like this.

She won't be able to postpone seeing him forever, but at least she'll be able to splash some water in her face and make herself look presentable. Albus won't be there for another hour, so she might even get to spend some time in Sirius's arms before she has to talk about how she nearly got discovered by none other than Percy Weasley. Her spell to ensure Yaxley wouldn't be able to open the bloody door she'd been guarding had been whispered a little too loudly. She might have succeeded in making the man turn around, but Percy had come pretty damn close to colliding with her in the narrow hallway.

This entire story will surely bring Molly to tears yet again, and she resent shaving to be the one to tell it. But she refuses to leave Molly out of the loop; it will not do their organization any good and perhaps it will help Molly to deal with her son's behaviour. At least, she hopes it will.

Once she reaches the closest bathroom, she disappears inside. Without thinking, she turns the taps until the water is warm enough to wash her face with. She uses some ice cold water to wet a handkerchief and places it over both of her eyes. It will help to hide how tired she is long enough to defect any questions.

When she's certain that part of the façade will hold, she tends to her hair. More than a few greying ebony tresses have escaped the confines of the bun she'd twisted them into that morning. She lets locks down and transfigures a comb from her still wet handkerchief. Carding it through her hair makes it look better already, but she isn't quite pleased until she braids it.

She descends the stairs again, pushing open the door to the living room. Despite the fact no candles or lamps are lit, she can see a shadowy figure sitting on the couch. By the way the figure is hunched over, she can tell it's Sirius. His head is resting in his hands, and she can see he's not very calm.

Slowly, she crosses the room. She's relieved when he doesn't ask her to bugger off, but she's less pleased with the fact he doesn't even acknowledge her presence. It's nothing like Sirius to behave like that, and it's making her worry. But she pushes the emotion back down; maybe there is no real need to worry and he's simply having a bad day. That will be easy enough to rectify.

But when he speaks she hears the absolute resentment, the anger and the frustration in his tone. It's a combination she hasn't heard in his voice yet and it makes her sit down as closely beside him without touching him as she can. She's not sure he'd like to be touched, and the last thing she wants to do it make matters worse.

"I hate being stuck in the shithole of a house! Everyone is allowed to gather information about Voldemort, allowed to help in some way. And I'm not" Sirius spats, so loudly Minerva thanks her lucky stars everyone is in the kitchen; it's still rare for Sirius to be this open and he never does it if he can't be sure no one else is around to hear it.

"I know you hate having to stay here. But it won't be forever. Fudge will have to admit Voldemort's back sooner rather than later, and then he won't have a choice but to accept Pettigrew was to blame for all those deaths. Your name will be cleared and you'll be able to come out of hiding," she says. The words aren't enough, she knows that, but they're the only ones she has. She hates having to admit that, though.

Sirius scowls, something she's never seen him do before. It's un unbecoming look for him, but she understands his reasons for doing it. She would go mad too, locked up like this. They're both fighters, both strong and independent people. But in this situation he's drawn the short straw, because Minerva gets the chance to report to a friend as well as protect the boy that's becoming something akin to a son to her. He can do neither of those things.

"It might be another year or longer before that happens. We both know how much influence Fudge has. So don't play dumb with me, as I know you're anything but," Sirius snarls at her.

Minerva feels the unease begin to settle over her, but she ignores it for the moment. The only thing to do is be there for Sirius now that he so keenly feels to restrictions Albus has placed him under. Because this time he won't be able to sneak out in his animagus form to assure himself Harry's safe.

"Neither of us is dumb, Sirius. I'm just saying it isn't time yet to lose hope; what is there to hold on to if we let go of hope? " she asks, trying to catch Sirius's eye. She's unsuccessful, but she feels better for trying anyway.

For a while all is silent. The tension is not yet broken, though, which keeps her from moving away. She doesn't want to make matters worse, after all. But she isn't sure being by his side is more than marginally better; he's completely impassive and she has no idea how to break him out of the miserable state he's in.

"I just want to be able to be there for Harry. He's scared to death by the connection between Voldemort's mind and his own, and I can't help him deal with any of it. How is that fair? To either one of us?" Sirius eventually mutters, the sadness and pain clearly audible to her.

"You are there for him, you respond to all of his letters and he can count on you to listen to him. It's more than he's ever had. Can't you see how much that means to him?" she says, the exasperation shining through completely now.

Immediately, she knows she's made a mistake. Sirius growls at her for the second time that evening and jumps off of the couch. His hand is raised when he lands on his feet in front of her, unmistakably ready to hit.

But she stays put, feeling sure his hand won't collide with her face at all. And indeed, Sirius's hand doesn't move even a fraction of an inch close to her. His grey eyes are wide with horror as they lock onto her own teal green ones.

"Oh God… Oh God… I promised I wouldn't become like the rest of my family…" he stutters. Before she has the time to say anything, he leaves the room, the offending hand now buried deep in his pocket.

She hurries after him, wanting to stop him from doing whatever he's about to do. If she can do that, things might not turn out all bad in the end . But she doesn't succeed. She doesn't manage to catch up with his before he has opened to front door and is stepping outside, beneath the starry skies.

"Sirius, wait!" she calls after him, but to no avail. The door has already fallen close before the words have even left her mouth.

Before she can stop herself, she sinks down beside the ugly troll legs that's being used as an umbrella. The floor is cold, but she hardly recognises the sting of it. She's in too much of an emotional turmoil to do more than bury her head in her hands and cry. Things are going horribly wrong and she can't do a thing about it.

Suddenly, she feels a pair of gentle yet strong arms wrap around her. The smell accompanying the person holding her tells her Albus Dumbledore has arrived early for their scheduled meeting. And she clings to her oldest and dearest friend like he's her lifeline, because maybe he'll know what to do.

Outside, Sirius isn't doing much better. He's angry with himself and the world; he's breaking the rules Albus put in place to protect him, he's being an ungrateful git as is mother loved to remind him of being when he was younger. He even raised his hand to Minerva before, and that is inexcusable.

There's only one thing to do now, and he knows what it is. He has to leave her before he hurts her, because if he does they'll both crumble. She has given him her heart and he will break it if he hits her, and he isn't sure he'll be able to keep himself from doing that a second time when she touches upon that which hurts him most.

"You know there is no other choice. She deserves someone better than you, someone who will lover her for who she was, is and will be and who'll never even consider hurting her," he tells himself out loud, not bothered by the fact there might be people walking in the shadows. If anyone hears him and thinks he's crazy, then that's their problem.

He turns yet another corner and sinks down on the pavement. He doesn't want to accept that his relationship with Minerva really has to end. She's brought out the best in him, his protective side, his love, his determination to make their relationship work. But he's certain she won't want to be with him anymore after this? Who would, risking being hit whenever there's a disagreement.

Because this is the first time they've argued, if that's even the right thing to call what they just did. There was no screaming, not even raised voices, only the sting of unease and anger that refused to dissipate as they spoke. Then again, no other word seems fitting to him either.

"I just had to go and ruin it all, didn't I? Remus will skin me alive once he finds out what happened. And he'll do that soon enough, as Albus will fill him in as soon as Minerva has told him. Oh, I'm in for something," he groans, his hand colliding so hard with his forehead that he doesn't doubt there's a red imprint in the skin.

But perhaps there is a way to mend what has been broken, he muses. He should apologise, tell her he'll do everything he can to be a better man from this day onward. He should convince her his heart beats only for her, should tell her that without her his dreams are less than pleasant. Harry is like a son to him, but it differs greatly from having a partner, a lover. He should tell her that he doesn't want to have to miss her, not now and not ever.

Then again, maybe he won't be able to mend the tears he's caused. That would mean he would have to talk to her and let her down gently, explain it's for her own good that he's disappearing from her life. He'll have to lock himself away whenever she's there and there isn't a meeting to attend for fear he'll make her sad or his own emotions will drive him to make a fool of himself. But if that makes it possible for her continue her life, it will be worth it.

"It would have been better if I'd never started dating her in the first place. She would have started searching for another soon enough, and she's have found someone more gently, more stable and more loving than I am. Things would have been better for her," he tells himself.

But the small voice in the back of his head reminds him that she chose him, that she entered this relationship willingly. So it might not have been all bad for her, which means she might not want to give up on his just yet. And hasn't she just reminded him that holding on to hope is preferable to giving up until it's too late?

Then again, it's probably too late already. He has blown his last chance of getting things right once more by leaving the house; he should have stayed and talked to her, as she wanted him to do judging by how she had run after him. But for the umpteenth time he has shown just how incredibly dense he can be.

He considers spending the nights in some cheap rented room, as he won't have to see Minerva or any of the others if he does. She'll be able to deal with this and she won't have to face him when he returns the next day, as she'll be going back to Hogwarts when Albus leaves early the next morning.

On the other hand, Minerva will need closure. And that means she'll want to talk to him in an attempt to understand what has happened. In her desire for it, she might not go to bed if she believe he'll come home sometime in the night. And he doesn't want to put her through that on top of everything else.

"Back home it is then," he finally decides, and lifts himself off of the curb straight away. If he spends one more minute his resolve will evaporate as quickly as it came to him and the whole debacle will start all over again. Dealing with that is too much to even think of after so many sleepless nights thinking of his partner so far away at Hogwarts with his godson whom he can't help.

He drags his feet as he walks, though, although he isn't aware of it until he leaves the street. He knows it's because it'll give him more time to think of what to do or say should she be waiting for him when he arrives, but he doubts it'll help much. He won't know what to say until he sees her, sees what he has done to her and begins to strive to undo it in as much as it is possible.

As he walks on, he prays to a God he doesn't believe in that Minerva's strength will help her through this no matter how it all ends. He knows he'll need Remus's strength to get back up even if they're still together the next morning. He's sure Remus will see his admitting that as a leap forward, and he himself is aware of it as well. Minerva has changes him, and he won't change back no matter what. It's a promise he makes in the darkness of a deserted ally, but it's no less meaningless because of it.

He vows to himself he'll tell Minerva that, even if the end of them comes to be. She needs to still feel loved, important and beautiful, because she is all of those things even if she doesn't see it herself. Intelligent as she is, she can be unbelievable dense as well, something only he and Albus get away with telling her. And barely at that, as she always gives them a glare that would turn her students into stone.

Finally, the front door of his house comes into view. He's no less scares to enter than he was when he hoisted himself up from the curb, but he's more determined than he was then to see this true. Just because she might still hold some measure of pride when he deals with this appropriately.

Remus is sitting on the stairs when he enters. The look the other man gives him makes Sirius want to hide somewhere until Remus is gone, but he stands his ground. He hopes Remus will understand what he's planning to do and will support him. And it seems Remus does, because when he speaks there is no anger or contempt in his voice, only concern which Sirius knows to be addressed to both him and Minerva.

"She's in the living room. Albus rescheduled the meeting for Wednesday and took her in there. She wasn't crying then, but I'm not sure she hasn't done that by now. However, both Albus and myself are convinced she'll want to see you," Remus tells him.

Sirius nods his head in a show of gratitude and slides past Remus and up the stairs. Remus touches the side of leg for a second as he does, and it tells Sirius that Remus has faith in him. It's all he needs to face his demons, to accept whatever Minerva has decided or will decide the outcome of this situation to be.

He softly knocks on the door, waiting until he hears a softly whispered "Come in" to step through. The sight that greets him makes him feel sick to his stomach. Minerva is leaning heavily against Albus. Her eyes are read and puffy. The tear tracks are still wet on her face and he feels bile rising up at the realisation he put them there.

"I'll take my leave then," Albus softly says before Sirius can even ask whether Minerva wants to talk to him. The older man pecks Minerva on the head and disappears, which effectively leaves them alone.

Minerva seems to have trouble finding her bearings and a comfortable place to sit now that Albus is gone. Without knowing why, Sirius charms one of the pillows to land snugly beside her.

To his astonishment, she smiles at him as she pushed back against it. He had expected her to shout or refuse to speak at all, but as she return her focus completely to him, she does neither. She simply speaks, not any louder or softer than she would have done in any other situation.

"If you still doubt how much you differ from the rest of the Black family, here's your answer. You show your kindness, tenderness and courage at every turn. None of the other Blacks would have dared face me after what happened before, and neither would they have cared about my wellbeing. And it's that love that made it impossible for you to strike me," she says, her voice growing stronger with every word.

A warmth uncurls inside of Sirius as he hears her speak, as it always does when she sees in him the things no one else can. He now knows the relationship hasn't come to an end, but he also realises it will take time to move past this. As it should, as he would make the same mistake again too soon if he could simply walk away and forget about all of this.

"Just promise me you won't ever let me strike. Use whatever charms, hex or curse you have to, but don't let me do that to you. And once you've done that, you leave. Do you hear me? If I can't respect and love you, if I can't not hurt you, then you leave," he tells her, knowing she'll hear the conviction in his voice.

She nods, extending one of her hands. He takes a hold of it, entwining their fingers. Her head falls to his shoulder, and he slips an arms around her to further their connection even more. He doesn't think he's ever been as scared as he's been the past hour, dreading to have to spend his life without love once more.

Eventually, Minerva breaks the silence that has settled over them. Her words are soft but secure, much like she is herself beneath the strict looks and teaching robes.

"Let's go to bed," is what she says.

And Sirius leads her to her bedroom, biding her goodnight with a love-filled kiss and hug. He wants to hold her just a little longer to convince himself this isn't all a dream, but he knows that the emotional distress she's been in for the last hour has tired her out even more than she'd been when he first saw her.

That doesn't mean he doesn't have ample dreams in which he holds her, walks along green paths with her or twirls her around gracefully to the beat of some soft music.

Maybe one day he'll be able to do all of those things, as he won't be the most wanted serial killer in existence anymore. But for now, those dreams will have to do. And maybe, she's having similar dreams. Or perhaps even the same ones. After all, dreams are strange things.

And with that last though on his mind, he falls asleep.


End file.
